Harm
by xbetafish
Summary: WMD story in response to Zer0-chan's "The Joker's WMD". I have received permission to use Zer0-chan's OC, so I don't catch flak later on. What better way to brighten up an evening in the hospital than things falling through the ceiling? Rated M for probable foul language and violence. You have been warned!


How was this fair? Sure, I had never been prom queen, but at least I had looked better than… This…

My skin was white as chalk. My eyes were black, onyx black. The rest of my eyes were still white, but like my skin, they were… too white… I couldn't see the veins. My arms and legs, however, were contrary. The veins were grey under my skin. I was sure that if the doctor's needles had been able to pierce my skin, that they would have pulled black blood out of me.

Stupid fucking truck driver! They still hadn't been able to identify what he had been hauling. Why the fuck had he been drinking anyhow, considering what he was hauling?!

The chemicals had eroded my teeth and bleached them. Now they were triangle daggers. I was lucky to even have teeth, they said. Lucky to be unharmed, they said.

They called this unharmed? Did they know what harm looked like? Was it busted skin and broken bones? Or was it what I thought it was, an unwanted alteration?

"Harmony!" Dad sang when he burst through the hospital door.

I smiled at him. He was the best daddy a gal could ask for. At least he would take care of me. Mom wouldn't even look at me. My own mother.

Dad's boyfriend Wally burst through the door, holding balloons and flowers, singing my name as well.

"Harmony!" He tripped over his own two feet.

I laughed. They didn't care what I looked like, even when they saw my dagger teeth. All they asked was, where had my coffee stains gone? That wasn't fair.

It didn't make me feel much better, but it helped a little.

Another man strolled in behind them, half smiling. When he looked at me, his smile dropped.

Shit shit shit. I ducked under the blanket, trying to make myself small. My hair, fuck, my hair! Purple streaked with green! How did fucking chemicals dye my hair like that?! It wasn't fair!

"Don't be ridiculous." The man's deep voice said. "I've seen worse in my office at the lab."

I peaked out. Who was this guy?

He was older, his dark hair not even salt and peppered, but streaked with white. His face, creased from stress.

I had seen pictures of this guy before… where?

"My name is…"

He said his name, but I would never remember it. I was very bad with names.

"I would like to run some tests."

Tests and more tests! I was so sick of tests! That was all I had been doing since the accident! That was months ago!

"No." I shook my head.

"I could help you."

That's what everybody said.

"I'm not asking."

"You're not telling." My eyes narrowed.

"I already have your mother's permission."

Dad stood.

"Sit down." He ordered.

Dad didn't budge. He held my hand.

"Don't try and order my dad around." I glowered.

Mom was standing outside the doorway. I realized that this man was her boyfriend. She had shown me a picture last week, wanting me to meet him. I wanted nothing to do with him. Was she that disgusted by me that she would do something like this to me? Just let some stranger come and examine me? I didn't like him. He sure as hell wasn't testing me. Was I so horrid like this?

She was my mother. She was supposed to care about ME, not how I looked.

I smiled at her. "Go to Hell."

Her mouth opened to tell me to watch my mouth, and the support beam above her gave way. A large machine crashed onto her.

Screaming.

I sat bolt upright in shock.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

Make the screaming stop. Just stop!

And it stopped, just like that.

Dad and Wally were yelling and trying to save her. It was no use. She was a mess on the floor now.

I got out of bed and vomited.

I had WATCHED her be crushed. It was disgusting.

Well, a quiet thought murmured to me, now her body matches her brain: mush.

I grabbed the bag dad left by the bed in case I ever got freed from the hospital. It had my purse, a change of clothes. Silently, finally ignored by the world, I changed and slipped out the first floor window. Away from the scene where my drama queen mother played her last great role: the tragedy victim. A poor woman taken from the world too early, trying to help her mutilated (in her mind anyway) daughter to regain some normalcy. She had cast herself as the star, of course. She was always the star.

Leaving the hospital, I pulled my black silk scarf over my lips. My long sleeves and pants covered my veins. The scarf very nicely hid my mouth. Unable to see my defects, nobody paid me any mind.

Ah, to be ignored. Blissful.

Couldn't believe what kind of stupid mom was. I couldn't even bring myself to feel bad that she was splattered all over the hospital floor. Bringing in some asshole to examine me like I was some kind of lab experiment. I felt like a frog pinned to a tray. They sure as hell weren't cutting this bitch up.

I stared at my feet, hiding myself as well as I could. Oh if I could just disappear!

"What's got you starin' at the pavement?" A man was standing in the shadows of the alleyway.

I could see him grinning. What a grin. No way in all the circles of hell could his lips not be damaged from how wide he was smiling.

"Maybe you should mind your own beeswax buddy." I said beneath the scarf. "I've had a rough day." Rough year, I mentally corrected.

"Aw, why so serious?"


End file.
